


Night More Loving Than The Rising Sun

by Meysun



Series: No More, No Less [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Character Study, F/M, Forbidden Love, Friendship/Love, Hurt Obi-Wan Kenobi, Hurt/Comfort, Insight, Protective Anakin Skywalker, Self-Doubt, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:07:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23483581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meysun/pseuds/Meysun
Summary: Set just after Clone War's S02E15 "Duchess of Mandalore". Duchess Satine Kryze and Obi-Wan Kenobi see the words "attachment" and "crusade" in very different lights. But love has many ways to bridge souls, and on her last night on Coruscant, both find some peace and hope.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Satine Kryze, Padmé Amidala & Satine Kryze, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker
Series: No More, No Less [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2002441
Comments: 13
Kudos: 169





	Night More Loving Than The Rising Sun

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there... I hope you are all well in those difficult times. Confinement and the news around lead to many musings, and since I happened to stumble upon the Clone Wars and have taken to watch all these episodes, I found my way back to a long-lost love, namely Obi-Wan Kenobi (huge eleven-year-old crush). I really loved the story arc of Obi-Wan and Duchess Satine. After the "Duchess of Mandalore" episode, I felt that some notions of war and love could still be explored... and this story came to life.  
> I'm not a specialist of the Star Wars universe, even though I am a huge fan. But it has been a great pleasure to try and voice those characters - they seem to have much more depth in that series... Obi-Wan is a joy to write. Much of his beliefs are mine. I hope you will enjoy it.
> 
> The title comes from Loreena McKennitt's beautiful song "The Dark Night of the Soul". The lyrics seemed to fit so well I had to borrow them.
> 
> Take care, much love, Meysun.

“Sometimes the lines between friend and foe are blurred… Now more than ever…”

Obi-Wan’s voice was soft but sounded troubled – he was watching the ink-like night of never-sleeping Coruscant, arms crossed, shielding his chest. Under the metallic light of the Senate-lamps, his face looked paler than usual, cheekbone blossoming like a bruise. And suddenly Satine was reminded of the awful noise of Obi-Wan’s skull hitting the wall, of his face meeting the assassin’s punches, and of the blast that had blown them both apart.

“Obi?”, she asked softly – because he was oh-so-guarded and would never say a word.

She placed a hand on his elbow, carefully, and her suspicions were confirmed when he only reacted several seconds afterwards, eyes meeting hers in that trusting, disarming way that broke her heart.

“Obi, did you let _anyone_ take a look at you?”

He frowned, slightly, and she took him in, thoroughly, but with all the layers he wore injuries were easily hidden.

“No… Satine, I… That was _actually_ the plan, wasn’t it?”

She had a soft smile, hand trailing towards his beard and _he let her_ , he let her stroke his cheek gently, fingers trailing to his soft, somewhat dishevelled hair until she could feel his skull and yes, there it was, the slight crease of pain around his eyes as her fingertips met an impressive bruise.

“The plan did not exactly involve cracking your skull”, she said, tenderly.

Obi-Wan’s expressive face displayed a very defiant, very endearing grimace – he _was_ pale, though, eyes somewhat glassy and Satine would have none of that.

“Obi, sit down.”

He complied – recognising a lost battle – and squinted up at her. Just like all those years ago, on Draboon, when he had been injured and trusting, and had let her pull all the dreadful shards from his arm. And just like then, he did not make a sound as she touched him, gently feeling for his skull, relieved when she did not find any blood but concerned at the coolness of his skin, and the pained way his eyes struggled to focus, now that the fight was over.

“I would not want to be in your head, my dear”, Satine whispered and Obi-Wan had a slight laugh that left him squinting even more around what had clearly blown into a fierce headache.

“Neither would I”, he deadpanned, but there it was, again, the sadness in his words and the faint, yet unmistakable exhaustion in his posture.

“Do not worry. It is just a concussion. It will pass within a few hours.”

Satine frowned at this – but she had witnessed the Jedi’s powers, knew that they could heal themselves faster than others, that they knew how to draw from their inner strength to heal their bodies.

“Still”, she said. “I think you would fare better without all these layers, lying down in the dark for a while.”

As soon as the words left her lips, she realised how they could be read – and Obi-Wan may be concussed and hurting, but words were his _life_ and he wielded them better than any weapon. Which is why she saw the face of her beloved Jedi slowly turning pink, and his eyes widen in shock.

“What I meant”, Satine corrected, smiling slightly, “was that you should rest for a while. I still need to attend that meeting, ensure the clauses are properly written down. However, I am only leaving tomorrow and… Obi, I would like… I would like to have a little time with you.

\- With me”, he repeated, tonelessly – he was so good as shielding himself, it had almost always drawn her mad, but she knew him. And she knew that stillness, that quietness – this was Obi-Wan very close to _panic_ and _bolt_.

“Yes. I want to talk to you, Obi. Hear what all these years have brought you. Who that handsome young Anakin is, besides your former apprentice – he seems very fond of you…?

\- Yes. Yes, I suppose he is…”

Obi-Wan had relaxed slightly, and the blush tinging his cheeks was beginning to recede. He breathed in deeply, and Satine was struck again with how young and boyish he could look when unguarded.

“It is settled, then…”, she said, gently stroking his cheekbone again and extending a hand towards him, helping him up. “I will see you to my rooms, tell my guards and my suite not to disturb you, and I shall come back in a few hours. To check on you. And to drill you with questions.”

She had kept her tone casual, teasing – very, very _friendly_. And it worked its magic, because Obi-Wan smiled, and relaxed even more, not even bothering when she kept her hand on his elbow, steering him gently through the Senate’s maze-like corridors.

*

Satine gave a satisfied sigh and smiled, gazing up at Padmé.

“Well, I guess this concludes a successful evening”, she said, and Padmé smiled.

“A successful night”, her friend answered, and from the corner of the room where he had stood vigil, Obi-Wan’s grinning former apprentice supplied:

“ _Dead of night._

\- Master Skywalker, do not be rude”, Padmé admonished but there was a twinkle in her eyes that softened her words and told of a year-long friendship.

“Obi-Wan, get out of that body”, Anakin grinned, and once more Satine heard fondness in the way he spoke his Master’s name.

“I see you have known Obi-Wan and his love for well-shaped words for quite a time.

\- Yes, Duchess”, Anakin replied politely. “He has been my Master ever since I was nine years old.

\- He still is? I thought you were no longer an apprentice… Fellow senators told me you were a Master yourself.

\- I am a Jedi Knight, not a Master. Not yet.”, Anakin corrected. “But it is true, I have a Padawan. Her name is Ahsoka.”

Once again, his eyes brightened and his face lightened with pure, unhidden fondness – Satine was surprised at this openness, so unlike other Jedi. But before she could dwell upon it, Anakin went on:

“However, Duchess Satine, it is not because I am a Knight that Obi-Wan is no longer my Master. He will always be my Master. I owe him everything I know. Almost everything I am. Without him, I would not be a Jedi.

\- Well yes… I can imagine that no one could show you more _thoroughly_ how to become a Jedi.”

She was surprised herself at the somewhat bitter undertone in her words, but Anakin seemed to know where it came from, and just looked at her with sympathy.

“No one indeed. It has not been easy. Putting up with me.

\- Certainly not”, Padmé teased, again. And Anakin smiled, but his face was serious as he turned again towards the Duchess.

“I mean it, Duchess. I know Obi-Wan does not show it, but it has been hard. I was thrust into his care when he was only twenty-five – when he was still reeling from his Master’s death. And I was already nine years old, and a _handful_. Yet he kept his promise towards Master Qui-Gon and trained me. Raised me. And never lost his faith in me.”

The dark blue eyes of the young Jedi bore into her face and Satine was troubled by this intensity, this fervour that almost sounded like a plead.

“I do not doubt it. Even though I must admit that the idea of Obi-Wan in the role of Jedi Master is something I still have to reconcile myself with. He used to be so passionate, impatient and stubborn…”

She had a fond smile, lost in memories, and was surprised when she found both Anakin and Padmé gazing at her, open-mouthed.

“Passionate?”, Anakin repeated. “ _Impatient_?

\- Well yes, he used to… _blow up_ when pushed, it was – well, it was frankly very endearing. Master Qui-Gon was very amused too, even though he hid it well.

\- But this does not sound like Obi-Wan at all”, Padmé objected, shaking her head. “I cannot remember him loosing his temper, not once in all these years.

\- Weeeell”, Anakin said, a sheepish look on his face. “Not _directly_. But he _does_ get annoyed. You know, that deep-breath-through-the-nose, clench-my-fists, shake-my-head-and-release-it-into-the Force kind of annoyed.

\- Yes. And would you not know about that”, Padmé chided gently. “It’s almost like you aim for it, whenever you fly him around…

\- Now, now, Senator, let us not exaggerate…

\- I don’t, Anakin. You know he hates it. And yet you still provoke him, and then it’s up to me to make him a cup of tea and let him settle down, while you prattle on about your incredible landing and flawless flying skills…

\- Obi-Wan _likes_ your tea”, Anakin grinned.

“I think Obi-Wan likes you even more, Padmé”, Satine threw in calmly, and her friend smiled, affection flooding her brown eyes.

“He does. And so do I. He is, truly, a wonderful friend. I met him when I was only fourteen, just before the battle of Naboo. Back then, I confess, I did not notice him at once, because Qui-Gon was… well, you knew him, he had such a strong presence. But Obi-Wan stayed on the cruiser while Qui-Gon and me explored Tatooine and met Anakin…”

She smiled at the Jedi Knight, briefly, and went on:

“Obi-Wan stayed on the vessel, and he was so sweet and gentle and forthcoming that almost all of my suite fell in love with him. And my captains – well, they were impressed with his mechanic skills and the way he helped planning the attack to retake Naboo…

\- I can imagine that”, Satine mumbled – and her thoughts flew towards Obi-Wan, hopefully resting peacefully in her room, sending a pang of longing through her body.

“That is why… Describing him as impatient and passionate… I did not meet that Obi-Wan, Satine. Stubborn he is, especially when his well-being is concerned, but impatient – no, not with that horrible war dragging on and these endless plans to try and contain it.”, Padmé sighed. “And though he clings to values I hold dear as well – I have never seen him trying to impose them on others.”

These words caused Satine to recall, with a considerable amount of shame, the undeserved tirade she had launched on Obi-Wan the day before – calling him _foolhardy_ , making him look like a mindless soldier on his righteous crusade… He had not even replied, he had just gazed at her with the very same sad expression she recalled from earlier.

“He’s a quiet man”, Anakin said, softly – and there was no banter in his words anymore, just fondness and concern. “You have to go digging hard for his thoughts and opinions, except when he’s on a mission. He does not like to… stand in the middle and shine. That’s not him. Even though he keeps _having_ to shine.”

Satine swallowed, hard. It had struck her, as well – the way Obi-Wan was all quick-witted, sarcastic, a General through the bone when on Mandalore… only to drop his shields one by one on Coruscant, falling back to quietness, concern, compassion and heart-breaking _openness_ she had trampled upon.

“Duchess Satine…”, Anakin added, softly, as they gathered their data-pads and left the room, switching the lights off behind them. “Whenever Obi-Wan… _shares_ anything... I have learned to treasure it.”

She could have felt pressured, _irritated_ even – because it could have sounded like a warning. Instead, she instinctively felt that it was worry and concern that had prompted the young Knight’s words. Not for her. For _him_.

“So have I”, she told him, closing the door and bowing lightly.

He bowed, deeply, and Padmé smiled at her, turning towards her own rooms, leaving Satine to head for hers – and for Obi-Wan, heart both full and aching.

*

The suite was not dark, not really – because Obi-Wan, ever mindful of her, had kept several small lamps switched on to guide her steps. And Satine was suddenly almost brought to tears, because it was the first time in _eons_ – the first time _here_ , that she could return to her rooms knowing that someone was waiting for her.

She closed the door and the first thing she spotted on the table was the plate next to the fruit basket. A pealed peach, flower shaped, circled by apple slices that looked like foliage – _Obi-Wan_ , of course.

He had remembered her love for fruit, the way she absolutely delighted in them, especially when she was not the one to peel them… Satine quickly shrugged off her cloak, discarded her heavy tiara and finally allowed herself to loosen her pins and tie her blond hair into a more comfortable bun. And all that time, she kept her eyes on that wonderful, sweet fruit-flower, allowing them to mist over, and to spill, because _she loved him_. 

But when she finally lifted the plate, and opened the door to the resting area, her eyes were dry and her face composed – she hoped he had rested, hoped he had felt at ease enough to feel at home and relax.

And indeed, Obi-Wan had folded his Jedi-cloak very neatly on an armchair – along with these strange black under cloths and gloves. He had discarded the vambraces and shoulder plates, his boots and socks… and was sitting on the ground, leaning against the bed, wearing only his Jedi clothes, barefoot and cross-legged, eyes closed and head resting against the bedcovers. He was breathing very quietly, hands almost disappearing in the thick, plush carpet, fingers curled upwards – Satine first thought he was meditating ; she had seen him do so, along with Qui-Gon, during their year together.

But the young Duchess quickly realised that he was asleep, because his head had lolled slightly to the left, pressing itself deeper into the soft covers. Without the armour, he seemed thinner, so much younger, despite his beard and the thin creases around his eyes – Satine could see his deep breathing, softly expanding his chest, and her own heart filled with even more love.

Very quietly, she removed her own shoes, and then she sat down on the carpet next to him, careful not to wake him. It told a lot about Obi-Wan’s exhaustion that he actually let her come so close to him without even stirring. Carefully, Satine inched closer, trying to match Obi-Wan’s breathing, until her knee was touching his, until her shoulder met his, until his head rested softly against hers.

She could feel his warmth, his peace, the soft brush of his auburn hair against her neck – and it was wonderful. Very, very gently, she stroked his shoulder, letting her fingertips ghost down his arm, his forearm, his wrist, finding the palm of his hand and stilling there. He let out a deeper sigh and entwined his fingers with hers, turning even more towards her, still sleeping on.

And for a while, Satine allowed herself to dream. That it could be like this – her coming back to her rooms, to him, finding him there, drawing calm and comfort from his warm, generous soul… And him – perhaps – coming back battle-weary, finally able to rest and be at peace… But like the fruit-flower, that dream, however beautiful, was ephemeral. Satine had no illusions concerning them – she was a Duchess and he a Jedi General. She was fighting for a neutral position, for the right of not engaging in _any_ fight, while Obi-Wan was committed to the Republic and its endless battles…

It could not be.

So Satine allowed herself to contemplate this dream, that beautiful flower Obi-Wan had made for her – and then, very slowly, tried to let it go with every petal and foliage that vanished, leaving the plate empty.

Obi-Wan stirred about an hour later, his hand still in Satine’s. He came to very slowly, like a child, and she smiled at him as he lifted his head, eyes still glazed over with sleep, rubbing at his eyes with his free hand, his cheek warm and red where it had rested against her shoulder.

“Oh…”, he frowned, recognising her and his surroundings. “Satine… I am sorry, my dear, I… I did not mean to fall asleep…

\- You did well, Obi…”, she soothed him. “You were exhausted. How is your head?”

She gently stroked his hear, smoothing it down, and again, _he let her_. He even seemed to melt into her touch, clearly enjoying it. And she wondered, heart breaking a little, how long it had been since he had allowed anybody that close.

“Mmmh… Much better”, he mumbled, eyes closing again – he clearly still had to wake thoroughly. And indeed, soon enough, he had a start and drew back, rubbing his eyes again, his hand leaving hers, looking somewhat stricken.

“Satine, I _am_ sorry. I don’t know what came over me, I…

\- Obi-Wan, it is alright. You did nothing wrong. You just _slept_ , dear one.”

His eyes widened a little at the word, and she tried to soothe him.

“It is exactly what I wanted you to do. I wanted you to rest, to have some quiet. Though I confess I cannot see why you felt like you had to sit down on the ground with a bed in the room.”

Obi-Wan’s cheeks went softly pink again.

“Satine, I could never… It would not have been proper. Besides, that carpet is so _soft_ , so thick… It makes one want to stroll barefoot through the room, just to feel the bliss.

\- Who would have thought - my cynical Obi, an actual epicurean. I like this.”

He smiled at her, then, an open, heart-warming smile she remembered from _before_.

“I found your flower. And I’m afraid I destroyed it.”

He laughed then, quietly.

“Well, that was the idea”, he said softly. “How did the writing of the clauses go, is everything in order?

\- We have completed the draft. It is to be ratified tomorrow. And I had a rather nice chat with Padme and your former apprentice.”

Obi-Wan fidgeted slightly at that and gave her a quick look.

“Oh. I hope Anakin behaved.

\- As I told you before… He is _very_ fond of you, Obi. Very protective, as well.”

Obi-Wan frowned and ran a hand through his hair. Instead of smoothing it, however, it left him slightly dishevelled, and Satine felt affection rise like a wave in her heart.

“Do not fret, Obi. You made a wonderful Knight out of him. He told me so himself.”

She was struck by the disbelieving look that filled his eyes – once more sadness found its way into his features, and Satine was reminded by the circumstances that made said knighthood begin.

“And Obi… It has been so very remiss of me not to tell you so… But I am, deeply, thoroughly sorry for Qui-Gon’s passing and for your loss.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes clouded even more. He stayed completely still for a few heartbeats, and then took a deep breath.

“It was very long ago”, he said, quietly. And then, even lower: “Sometimes I think back at those times and am quite baffled to realise how spoiled I was.

\- Spoiled, Obi?”, she repeated, with a disbelieving raise of her eyebrows.

“Yes. Absolutely spoiled. I could… roam the worlds asking, questioning, fuming, theorising… and I always knew I had Qui-Gon to show me the way, soothe me, chide me and back me up.

\- You were but a child, Obi. You were still growing.

\- Yes, of course… But, Satine… I had so much luck. I had so much love, and care. So, even though I was – quite broken, frankly, when… when Qui-Gon passed” – his voice hitched a little – “It would not do, you see, to dwell upon my loss, when I had already received so much. The best thing, truly, that could happen to me, and… and it did… was to pass on that care and love. So, in a way – what the Force took from me, it gave back tenfold. And for that I am grateful.”

He had said the words very quietly – but there was still a deep passion buried in him. Only, it had softened, and the only way it found to pour out of his wonderful, ever loving soul, was through his eyes. Tears had gathered along with his words and clung like pearls to his lashes, but they did not flow.

Satine took his hand in hers, quietly, and this time Obi-Wan clasped it.

“You know, Obi… I cannot help but wonder why – why, in the name of all the gods, your Order tries to curb the very notion of _attachment_. When I hear your words, when I hear you talk of the Force like that, it just seems to me that a Jedi should rejoice in love and being loved.

\- We are. We do.”, Obi-Wan said softly, but there was also sadness in his words. “We revel in love, because it is the light of the Force. As is compassion. And care.

\- Then why…

\- Because _attachment_ , in the sense of the Code, is something very different. It is a knot. A snare. Preventing you from letting go of yourself, of becoming one with the Force. Blinding you. Making you unable to see past your own feelings and needs.

\- Forcing you to ignore them. Even though everybody, including your Jedi Order, is well aware that they exist.”

Obi-Wan swallowed, hurt blossoming in his eyes like a bruise, and Satine clasped his hand, trying to soften the blow of her words.

“Satine… They are aware. We are aware. We do not condemn that, not really. We are… we are not the Force, we are parts of the Force. And as such, incomplete, only striving towards completion. But – but what the Code really asks of us is to be aware that you cannot have both. You can choose to live a life of attachment – weaving your soul to another, having children, a family… It does not mean you are treading a lesser path. But it makes you leave the path of a Jedi. Because a Jedi cannot curb the Force to his own desires and needs – if we choose attachment, we also need to let go of our connection to the Force. Otherwise we might cause so much damage...

\- How so, Obi-Wan? How could you possibly…

\- Because”, Obi-Wan said fervently. “Because… For example. What – what I… what happened to me. On Mandalore. And here. Because I… because I was so afraid you would get hurt, because I could not bear the thought you could get injured – Satine, it… it was so much more difficult…”

He swallowed again, and she realised his hands were trembling softly.

“Usually, I… I feel the Force around me - I can sense the link towards people, and space, and their feelings, and their actions. I can just feel it. I can draw from it. And I… somehow, usually, I _know_ what must be done. I know I must jump, turn, deflect that blow. I also know when someone strikes in fear, in confusion, or in pure evil. And I… I can trust that, as long as I only try to defend myself, to feel the deepest compassion I can reach for _every_ being… I can rely upon the Force. Upon what it signals me to do. I can keep going on, knowing I still am living in the light.”

He was clearly shaking now, and she knew his thoughts had reached war.

“But… When I was fighting on Mandalore – and just before, with that assassin… Satine – it did not feel the same. I… I felt something I had not felt ever since – ever since Qui-Gon died. I felt I could crush those that wanted to harm you, and _revel_ in it. I could not feel the nudges of the Force anymore. I just felt the fear of losing you – it… it just tuned _everything else_ out for a while… And it scared me.”

His quiet admission left Satine reeling – it was probably one of the bravest things Obi-Wan had ever done, and she was daunted by his self-insight.

“Is that why you look so sad, Obi?”, she asked, quietly. “Because of that fear…?”

He just shook his head, and this time she let go of his hand, wrapping her arms around his waist, dragging him against her – and he let her.

“Obi, rest assured – I have no fear of dying. Whenever it happens, however it happens – know that I am grateful and at peace as well. And that I will never blame you for not protecting me enough. I know you do. And I would not dream to thrust that burden on you… Because this is not love, this is not even attachment… this is _dependence_.”

He sighed, resting his face quietly against her neck. He was not trembling anymore, he just looked drained, and Satine gently stroked his back.

“Will you tell me, Obi? Was it something I said, or did? Is that why you keep silent about it? I lashed out hard enough to earn some words in return, I should think…

\- You did not lash out”, he said – and what a sweet soul he had, Satine mused, what a gentle, golden, loving spirit…

“But I did”, she said, fingers moving through his hair and drawing soothing circles there. “I spat on your advice. I insulted you.

\- You made me _think_ ”, Obi-Wan objected, cheek still leaning against her shoulder. “You said I was running from planet to planet, lightsaber in hand, on a crusade – and when I looked, deep inside, I found that it was true.

\- Obi-Wan, dearest, please… It is not. You are not running aimlessly. And the word _crusade_ , it was ill-fitted and…

\- On the contrary. It fits. A crusade is nothing but a war, wedged in the firm belief that we must recapture lost lands in order to convert them to our laws, our customs, because we believe to be in the right. And – sometimes it seems to me that we are. Those are the battles that I do not regret, that I do seldom dream about – because our foes are so evil, the consequences of peace so full of light, that I do not have doubts. But… on other battles, on other wars – I cannot shake the feeling that we are stirred by something not entirely pure. Some planets choose the Separatists and oppose us, but the inhabitants are not evil. And yet we need to sway them.

\- Do you, Obi…?

\- Yes.”, Obi-Wan said, tiredly. “Not always with weapons, thank the Force. Negotiations are just as effective, and much more pleasant. But still… Lately, I wonder why this war seems so unending, dragging on and on. I have the feeling that, though we try to see and guide the Republic towards the light, we are the ones that remain blindfolded. And dark and bloody, to the eyes of those that have the insight to look at us and question our actions.”

Satine drew her arms even tighter around him.

“Is that how you think that I see you? Some dark, blood-thirsty, mindless soldier?

\- I do not know”, Obi-Wan said softly. “But this is not what I want to be.”

She could sense his hurt. His doubts. And yet he had such a gentle soul…

“Obi-Wan. My dear, dearest Obi… This is not what you are. Nor what you ever will be. I have seen you fight, on Mandalore and against that assassin. You never attacked them, maimed them, or wished to kill them. You only defended yourself, and me. You always tried to stop them. You never gave in to rage. You outsmarted them. And I love you for all of this. I trust you with my life, for all of this.”

He sighed then, a bone-deep, soul-wrenching sigh turning into a whole body-shudder – and Satine softly bent to kiss his hair, because she had hurt him badly.

And he let her.

He let her hold him, and stroke his hair, embracing her, leaning his cheek against her shoulder, breathing quietly into the night.

“Satine…?”

Obi-Wan’s voice was shy, and she drew a soothing pattern into his skull.

“What are we going to do…?”

He sounded so lost. Perhaps he was. But to Satine, it seemed they had recovered something essential that had been forever missing.

“What do you want us to do?”, she asked, calmly – and for a while, Obi-Wan stayed silent, his body absolutely still.

“I… want it all”, he acknowledged quietly. “And I know it cannot be.”

Satine smiled, sadly.

“No. It cannot be. Not really. But we can try to create something different. We can try to be… a harbour. A resting place. We can try to… accept to be this, not more, and not less. Whenever we meet, we could find each other again. And whenever we part, we could accept to let each other go. We could accept that we may never see each other again, that we may die – in battle for you, because of intrigues for me… We can try _not_ to fight that. We can try _not_ to change the other – not to impose our beliefs onto the other. No bonds. No dependency. But – in those moments of time and space when we are together, we could rejoice. And love. And cherish.”

He tightened his arms around her, and then – then, he looked up at her. There were tears in his expressive eyes – those eyes she loved so much. There was love, and commitment, and so much emotion Satine could drown into these waters. But Obi-Wan was also strong, and brave, and insightful.

And so, her beautiful, wonderful Jedi looked at her, placing his hands on her shoulders, and looked at her with so much love it was her turn to tremble.

“Yes”, he said, simply, and she saw a single tear run slowly down his face. “Yes.”

His hands moved, framing her face delicately, and Satine marvelled at their softness, at the way they seemed to touch even more than her skin – her very essence, making her feel both loved and revered.

“Yes”, Obi-Wan whispered, closing his eyes, tilting his face towards her.

Their lips met, softly, very lovingly – then Obi-Wan was kissing her.

And Satine let him.


End file.
